You Are NOT Broken
Good meditation is dangerous meditation.
Nothing to heal. Nothing to fix. I am valuable.
That hit me like six trucks this morning while meditating.
Where the concept originated, I can’t say — can we ever? — but it was one of those treasures created from nothing, from nowhere, and everywhere at the same time.
I settled. When cosmic revelations like that happen, I’ve learned not to push. Epiphanies are like timid cats; if you rush over to pet them, they’ll just runoff. So I stayed there on the pillow, cross-legged on the floor, atop the ‘Shinning’ inspired rug in the room with the ominous ticking clock.
The concept intrigued me. Actually, it angered me. This wasn’t what I signed up for when I started meditating all those years ago. I came for the action, not the love story. And here was my mind tossing up something that attacked the excuses I’d relied on for so long, the misery I wore as some sick badge of honor. I struggled to believe it, but it didn’t disappear.
Nothing to heal. Nothing to fix. I am valuable.
The more I let the notion sweep over me, the more disarming it felt. Letting it in my Mind Palace was like letting in a stranger with a gun. But I did it anyway because good meditation is dangerous meditation. It welcomes the unknown, challenges the ruling class of the mind, and transforms the world instantly.
I began to chant: Nothing to heal. Nothing to fix. I am valuable.
I did my best to believe it. I left the baggage behind. I learned that fear and anguish, and doubt does not have to continue. And best of all, I understood something I never had before; I’m not broken.
If we’re talking strength, then it’s pretty clear that accepting the notion of no healing and no brokenness is going to take all we have. At least for most of us. We’re taught early on that our environment, childhood, and culture is what makes us who we are. And maybe so. But who’s to say we need to be broken by it? What if the past wasn’t something to overcome? What if the bad things that happened didn’t leave us in desperate need of repair but added to our ability to achieve?
Excuses are comforting. They remove responsibility. Life becomes mom and dad this, my boss and coworkers that, and if the world would only …! But excuses aren’t helpful, and it’s far better to take advantage of the power within you than to justify weakness. And that starts by accepting a future where there is nothing to heal, nothing to fix, and YOU are valuable.
